CHAPTER 4
By the end of the week, Andrew Cross had developed a routine: wake early, ignore his condition, and tolerate Nancy. In that exact order.
"You're staring at your coffee like it owes you money," Nancy remarked as she walked into the living area, catching him mid-thought.
Andrew didn't bother to look away from the mug. "It does."
She peered at the cup, unimpressed. "What exactly did it do?"
"It's cold," he replied flatly.
"Then drink it faster next time."
"I shouldn't have to rush coffee in my own home."
Nancy approached, picked up the cup, and sniffed it. "You also shouldn't leave it untouched for twenty minutes and expect it to stay hot."
Finally, Andrew turned to her, raising an eyebrow. "Are you always this argumentative?"
"Only with people who are wrong," she shot back, her smile unwavering.
"I'm not wrong."
"Yes, you are."
A pause settled between them, and Andrew leaned back slightly, studying her with growing interest. "Do you enjoy this?"
"Immensely."
"That explains a lot about you."
She grinned and set the cup back down. "Take your meds now."
He exhaled slowly, feeling the familiar tug of resistance. "You've turned this into your own personal mission."
"It works."
"Barely."
"But it works."
Another pause expanded between them before he reached for the bottle, still not looking at her. With a quick flick, he swallowed the pill, feeling her eyes on him.
"Wow," Nancy said, genuinely surprised. "No argument today?"
"I'm conserving energy," he responded dryly, standing and straightening his jacket.
"For what?"
"I have a meeting." His tone shifted slightly, a hint of irritation creeping in.
"Outside?" she questioned, raising an eyebrow.
"Yes."
"With actual people?"
He shot her a look. "I do run a company, you know."
"Debatable," Nancy murmured under her breath.
Andrew chose to ignore that, grabbing his jacket as she watched him with an expression that was a mix of concern and curiosity.
"Just how long will you be gone?" she asked, her voice shifting into something more serious.
"An hour. Maybe two."
"And if you feel..,."
"I won't," he interrupted sharply.
A long silence hung between them. Then,"Fine," she said, her voice holding firm. "But I'm coming with you."
Andrew froze mid-motion, his irritation flaring. "No."
"Yes."
"No."
"Yes."
He glared at her. "Absolutely not."
"I'm not asking you," she replied, her resolve unyielding.
"You don't attend my meetings."
"I'm not attending the meeting," she clarified. "I'm making sure you don't pass out during it."
"I'm not going to pass out."
"You can't know that."
"I do."
Nancy put her hands on her hips. "Look, you can either let me come quietly, or I can call your doctor and have him explain it to you again."
Andrew opened his eyes, the challenge palpable in the air. "You wouldn't."
"Try me."
A long silence stretched between them before Andrew relented, tension vibrating through his body. "…Fine," he said, his tone clipped. "You stay outside. You don't speak. You don't interfere."
Nancy nodded immediately. "Deal."
"I mean it."
"I heard you."
"Don't talk to anyone," he added with emphasis.
"I won't."
"You don't embarrass me."
She raised an eyebrow. "You manage that just fine on your own."
Andrew shot her a flat look. "We're leaving in ten minutes."
Nancy smiled, her demeanor unruffled. "I'll be ready."
As they arrived at Cross Holdings, its sharp, polished atmosphere seemed to wrap around Andrew like a second skin. The moment he stepped through the glass doors, he felt the familiar sense of control wash over him.
"Good morning, Mr. Cross."
"Morning, sir."
"Mr. Cross, the reports you requested..,.."
"Send them to my office," he replied coolly, not breaking stride.
Nancy walked beside him, her demeanor quieter now as she absorbed everything: the building, the people, the way the atmosphere subtly shifted around him. As they stepped into the elevator, she leaned slightly closer. "You're scary here."
Andrew didn't look at her. "Good."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"It wasn't meant to be."
When the elevator doors opened to the executive floor, a polished woman approached quickly, tablet in hand, her heels clicking against the marble with practiced urgency.
"Mr. Cross," she greeted, her eyes flicking to Nancy for a fraction of a second.
"Lydia," he acknowledged, his tone instantly sharper.
Lydia was the embodiment of competence. Every inch of her screamed precision, the kind of person who looked like she had never made a mistake in her life.
"Your 11 a.m. is already in the conference room," Lydia reported. "And Mr. Reeves arrived early."
Andrew nodded once. "Good."
Lydia hesitated before continuing, "And this is...?"
Andrew didn't answer right away. Instead, Nancy stepped forward with a polite smile. "I'm Nancy."
"Caretaker," Andrew added flatly, cutting off any potential interpretations.
Lydia's brows lifted slightly, surprise flickering in her expression. "I see," she replied, though it was clear she was still processing.
Nancy tilted her head, her tone friendly. "Nice to meet you."
Lydia returned the professional nod. "You as well."
But her focus quickly shifted back to Andrew. "Are you sure you're up for this meeting?"
"Of course," he replied, his tone sharp.
"It can be postponed if you need, "
"It won't be."
Lydia held his gaze for a moment longer, then nodded, her understanding palpable. Nancy noticed this exchange and filed it away for later.
The conference room was already full when they entered, men in expensive suits exuding polished smiles and calculated intent. At the head of the table sat Daniel Reeves, who didn't stand when Andrew walked in but smiled slowly, the kind of smile that reeked of disdain cloaked in courtesy.
"Andrew," Daniel said smoothly, "cutting it close."
Andrew took his seat without responding. "I wasn't aware punctuality had become your concern."
A low chuckle rippled around the table. Daniel leaned back slightly. "Just making conversation."
"Try harder."
Nancy remained near the door, where she said she would be, quiet, observant, taking in the room the way Andrew always did.
The meeting began quickly: numbers, projections, deals. Andrews was different here, more dynamic, more driven, as if nothing at all were wrong, as if he weren't running out of time.
Nancy watched him intently: the way he spoke, the way he commanded attention without raising his voice.
Eventually, she spotted the signs, the slight pauses, the tightening of his grip against the table, and the almost imperceptible breath he took too deeply, evidence of the battle he fought every day.
But across the table, Daniel was also aware. He didn't see Andrew's illness, not exactly, but he recognized the signs of weakness, something that men like him always seized upon.
By the time the meeting ended, the atmosphere in the room had thickened, deals set and tensions established. Andrew didn't rise right away, a detail that didn't escape Nancy's eye, nor Lydia's.
"Mr. Cross?" Lydia inquired softly.
Andrew blinked, as if pulled back from a distant thought. "I'm fine," he stated immediately, the edge in his voice not allowing any questions.
Without speaking, Nancy stepped a little closer, not drawing attention but offering a silent support that shifted the dynamic subtly around them.
Daniel watched this transformation with interest, measuring it with the precision reserved for opponents. "Interesting," he murmured, almost to himself.
Andrew caught the comment and shot Daniel a sharp glare, his warning clear.
The elevator ride back was equally quiet but charged with an awareness that hadn't been there before. Nancy finally broke the silence, glancing sideways at him. "You're tired."
"I'm not."
"You are."
"I'm not."
This time, she didn't push back, her eyes steady on him as Andrew leaned back against the wall, letting out a slow breath. "It went well," he said, breaking the tension.
Nancy nodded in agreement, though her expression suggested she understood the price he paid for that success. "It did."
"But you pushed too hard," she added quietly.
Andrew looked at her, an acknowledgment drawing lines in the tension between them.
"And you noticed," he replied, his voice low but almost impressed.
"I'm supposed to."
The elevator doors opened, carrying an air of unspoken urgency.
Before they exited, Lydia fell into step beside them. "Your afternoon is clear," she said, her tone brisk yet subtle.
"I didn't ask you to cancel my other appointments," Andrew remarked, a hint of impatience creeping back into his voice.
"No," Lydia replied smoothly, "but you needed it."
A pause hung in the air, and Nancy exchanged a glance with Lydia, momentarily amused. "See?" she said simply. "You have a type."
Andrew scowled. "Excuse me?"
"People who refuse to listen to you."
Lydia blinked, and then, unexpectedly, a smile flitted across her features, a brief yet genuine flicker.
Andrew surveyed the two women, and before he could process his thoughts, turned away, already stepping ahead. "Unbelievable," he muttered.
Nancy grinned, falling back in step beside Lydia. "Nice to meet you properly," she said with a hint of warmth.
Lydia glanced over, her smile lingering. "Likewise." Then, in a quieter voice, she added, "Good luck."
"I think I'm going to need it," Nancy replied, echoing an unvoiced understanding.
As Andrew walked ahead, exuding control and composure, neither of them vocalized it, yet it was felt. Something had already begun to change.